


The Reaper's Embrace

by ErmacsFineAss



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Haunted Houses, Hurt/Comfort, Jack doesn't believe in ghosts, Jack's a cop, M/M, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Slow Build, Slow Romance, ghosts n shit, haunted au, until now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-12-16 18:57:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11834973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErmacsFineAss/pseuds/ErmacsFineAss
Summary: Jack decides to move closer to work in order to make the drive there easier, but quickly notices some odd occurences within the new house after the first day.





	1. Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my first fanfiction, the last one I wrote up I deleted because I felt unhappy with it, but I have a good feeling about this one! So the idea has been on my mind for a while and it was just now that I actually decided to write the damn thing up and post it. I'm not sure how long this fic will be but I don't want to keep it going forever. Sorry for the short first chapter, I'm more or less just testing the waters right now. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the fic. 
> 
> Contact me on tumblr-https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gay-and-mildly-upset

Jack stares hatefully at the still closed up boxes stacked high in the corner of the room, as if his gaze alone will simply remove them from his sight.

' _If only '_ he thinks to himself with a small sigh before actually standing up from the couch he's merely pushed into the center of the room; it's a problem that can be dealt with later. For now, he only wants to get the boxes unpacked and worry about proper room arrangements over the next couple of days.

There's no real reason to rush after all.

The man hesitates as he approaches the menacing stack, as if internally debating on if things can just wait for a few hours, before shaking his head and beginning to haphazardly remove the packing tape. He mentally makes notes of each box's contents as he opens them up. Dishes, decorations, clothes.. _more clothes_. The last box is the only one that really holds anything interesting, filled to the brim with old objects of good memories and some bad ones. An old photograph lies on top of dusty combat fatigues, dog tags and a carved wooden box of what sounds like something metal when he shakes it.

He immediately recognizes the men in the photo, a couple of war buddies on either side with him standing tall in the middle; an arm around the two closest to him. His skin was much more fair then, hair brilliantly blonde and eyes the brightest shade of blue imaginable. A hand moves up to brush through now dull white strands, and his brows arch downwards in mild annoyance. Nothing like a bit of reminiscing to make you feel old as hell. Now all he needs is a neatly trimmed lawn, and a couple of kids to yell at in order to get the full experience of old age.

The photo is soon returned to it's original place, and the box is resealed. Stuff like this would be better to keep in storage, rather than laying about the house, collecting dust and getting in the way. So, he pushes it aside to be moved later and instead focuses on the box of dishes, carefully lifting it up with a small grunt; from there, Jack makes his way to the kitchen.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Within a couple dreadful hours, everything is finally put away or at least moved elsewhere; the couch eventually pushed back against the wall in an acceptable area. The man flops onto it with a heavy sigh, body somewhat stiff and sore from lifting hefty boxes and rearranging the room around him to look at least sort of nice; that is until proper decoration can be put up.

For now, it’s a simple set up.

Luckily, the house wasn't too large, just one bedroom, one bath and a fairly big kitchen and living room. The interior walls are blandly decorated with tan wallpaper and rough wooden walls in other rooms; outside is a dull grey with small chips in the paint here and there. Overall, he's satisfied with the purchase, _even if_  the strange lady that sold it to him insists the place has rumors of being haunted. Jack's never believed in ghosts, well, maybe when he was a kid, but things have changed. He's an adult now, and there's no need to go believing in fake superstitions.

"Haunted. _Right_ " He mumbles, before taking in a deep breath and relaxing into the cushions below; Wilhelm promised to bring over his bed tomorrow, meaning that for today, he'll be sleeping on the couch. No problem there; Jack's already half asleep when the thought comes, arms folded over his torso in a lazy manner.

He makes a note, before his eyes fully close, to force Reinhardt into helping him set up the bed and maybe a few other things. It seems like a fair enough thing to do, considering he'd packed up and unpacked everything essential on his own already; everyone else either had to work or just didn't feel like coming. But Reinhardt, he could depend on.

The former soldier just shrugs, rolling over onto his side with the couch creaking softly in protest below. A gentle chill washes over his form when he finally settles into sleep, like cold finger tips are brushing over the pale skin. Unconsiously, he shivers and sleeps with an uncomfortable sensation throughout the night. 


	2. First Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night of celebration, Jack returns to his home and begins to question the effects his stress seems to have on him.

The mattress creaks when Jack finally falls back onto it, sprawled out with a pleased sigh of relief; Wilhelm drops down beside him, bouncing once or twice for good measure. It'd taken forever to get the damn thing up the stairs, even longer considering his friend's massive size, but they managed.

"God this feels amazing. I slept like absolute shit last night." Jack mumbles out, reaching back to run his hands along the cushy surface below. The German couldn't help but chuckle at the reaction, glancing over at the much smaller man beside him. "New house jitters? Or is the couch not good enough for you?" Jack rolls his dull, blue eyes with a shrug, sitting up a moment after.

"I'm not sure actually. It just..I felt like I was being watched, like someone touched me last night."

Wilhelm looks semi confused.

Jack sighs once more.

"Maybe it is just the move. The last few days have been stressful to say the least." He shakes his head to clear the thoughts, before standing and stretching out with a satisfying pop from his stiff limbs. The couch had been far from the most comfortable place to sleep last night, so he's glad the bed is finally set up, unsure if he could stand another night on a sleeping area that small. That and, given the events that transpired last night, he'd rather not be stuck downstairs again.

There's a couple more boxes to deal with, but it's mostly just random things to be put in storage; he'd decided to look through them anyways, seeing if anything would bring up anymore memories. It was just a bunch of age old trinkets with little use, and made him wonder why they were even still around. Maybe Wilhelm would take interest in a few of them and take a couple home.

That is, _if_ Ana even allowed it.

The thought made him smile, softly nudging a large box he'd already gone through with a foot before turning to the man still sitting on the bed, glancing out the window at a few passing cars. Reinhardt turns upon feeling the other's gaze upon him, staring for a moment then actually standing. "Alright, Alright. I'm up. What's next?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

With everything tucked away, it's much easier to maneuver throughout the house, even when you're completely and totally drunk off your ass.

The German had invited Jack out to celebratory drinks, and there was no way he could possibly say no to free alcohol; especially when the other man had also paid for a cab home. Stumbling up to the front door; after making sure that this actually was his home, Jack patted down his pockets for keys, taking a rather embarrassing amount of time before finding them. Another shameful couple of minutes passed and the door was quickly pushed open, the male shoving himself inside to avoid anymore humility from the long struggle with his keys.

It was dark, any light shining in from the outside faded off the second the door was closed, leaving him to grope blindly along the walls for the damn light switch.

"C'mon...C'mon…What the hell-" Jack hisses out in pure drunken irritation.

Something cold brushes against his hand, sending a harsh chill right up his spine as the feeling shifted to instead glide up the bare skin of his arm. All hairs standing on end, the former soldier's intoxicated mind fought to remain focused and think, quickly dismissing this as any chance gust of wind. He didn't remember leaving any windows open, and the house itself was fairly well built; the real estate woman didn't mention any kind of drafts.

Entirely, his body froze up, breath hitching as the icy touch began to feel more and more like fingers, tightly curled around the column of his wrist. Jack forgets how to breath for a moment, and there's a faint buzzing in his ear, like static from a TV without signal. Slowly, he feels for the light switch once more, but the hand wrapped firmly around his wrist pulls the hand back. It does so every time that the male attempts to reach out, tightening the grip for just a second, as if scolding him just for trying. A gust of frigid air licks his cheek, as if someone is peering right over his shoulder. With a burst of courage, Jack pulls harshly to the left; freeing himself for just long enough to put some distance between him and the intruder.

He catches the barest glimpse of a face; pale scarred skin and dark brown eyes that pierce into his very being. Jack sharply breathes in. There's a subtle glow but as quickly as it came, it's all just…gone, disappearing into the darkness around him. Immediately, Jack goes for the light switch, finding it after only a few minutes in his panicked state. The room is then illuminated in a dull glow from the light overhead; there's no trace of the figure from before, no chill. _Nothing._

Instantly, Jack fumbles for his phone, unearthing it from a pocket before simply staring at the screen. He's not sure who to call, _who_ can he call in an event like this? Was it even _real?_  Or was it just some drunken hallucination? The scare has sobered him up somewhat but his hand still shakes when he dials Rein's number; there was no way he's staying here tonight.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He's relieved when the car finally pulls up to his driveway, stuffing a plastic bag of clothes and a toothbrush into the backseat before sliding into the passenger's side with a slightly calmer expression. Ana had come for him, given that his friend was still heavily intoxicated, and most likely already passed out. Still, he's friends with Ana too. The two were war buddies, she was one of the best snipers in the business; he can't seem to recall all of the times the woman has saved his ass from a wayward shot. Even in old age, Jack's certain she could get a perfect shot from over a mile away…With an eye closed. He adds, remembering the accident that permanently impaired her vision. Ana never let's that bother her, or get in the way of every day life. Jack respects that.

"Care to tell me what happened?" She breaks the silence abruptly, briefly stealing a glance at the male beside her, gaze finding the road before them once more. "It's not every day you need me to pick you up for a sleep over." A slight smile cracks at her lips and Jack forces one to spread across his face. He's not sure what to say about the incident, still unsure if it was real or he was just freaking out about nothing. Most likely, it's the later; strong booze does crazy things to your head. He knows this from experience. However, the touch..it felt so _real_ , as if someone was truly there. 

It's not till Ana asks once more that he actually answers, pushing aside the memory. "Well I uh..umm.." He's not sure how to explain things, or even, how to begin. Instead, Jack lies (sort of) then brushes off the topic, like dust on his shoulder. "I just…I've been a bit paranoid. The move has had me on edge for a few days, I think the stress is making me see things. It's no big deal though, I'm sure I just need to relax for a bit." he states, leaning against the door with his head pressed against the window, it's glass cool to the touch. It helps soothe his still ragged nerves.

Rain has started to fall when they finally arrive, parked in front of a somewhat large house; blue with black trim around the windows and door.

The yard is well kept; it must be Rein's work. He tends to be overly prideful when it comes to his lawn. 

Snatching the bag from the backseat, he shuts the car door and hurries beside Ana for the door, waiting until she actually gets it open before stooping down to remove his shoes. The dirty sneakers are set to the left of the door, right next to a pair of Fareeha's soccer cleats, the bottoms are heavily covered in mud.

'Must've had practice today.' Jack thinks to himself.

"You don't mind the couch, do you?" She asks, as if there's really a choice and Jack shakes his head slowly, more focused on looking around. He hasn't visited for a while. It's wonderfully decorated, lots of antique looking furniture; the walls are sparsely decorated with photographs of family trips and other things. The one's showcasing Fareeha's soccer games and school events seem to be the largest; of course. There's a rather elaborate looking Egyptian vase sitting on the stained glass coffee table, filled to the brim with white orchids. He's almost jealous, considering the fact that their home looks about ten _times_ nicer than his. Perhaps he'll consider decorating when there's actually time. 

The older female brings him a pillow with some kind of floral print on the case, and a thick blue fuzzy blanket. She smiles and says goodnight before leaving him alone with his thoughts. He slumps onto the,  _much larger than his,_ couch and gets himself situated. A tall and rather beautifully engraved grandfather clock ticks off the seconds from the corner of the room, and Jack finds himself staring blankly at the red blinking light just beneath the television. Thinking. Eventually, the male caves and shuts his eyes with a tired sigh. Tonight, the chill is gone and for once, he feels at ease...

 

That is, until those piercing eyes find him in his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ana and Rein will be included in the next few chapters quite a bit, as well as Fareeha and a couple more characters that I won't be mentioning yet. I'm hoping to get the third chapter out within the next few days, because I want this fic to update regularly and it will hopefully be much longer as well. But anyways, hope you enjoy the fic!
> 
> Contact me on tumblr-https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gay-and-mildly-upset


	3. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finally decides to face the source of his problems and meets with an old friend.

Jack wakes with a gasp, body quickly jolting up before his eyes actually open and peer around the room frantically. The grandfather clock in the background ticks slowly, it's sound is echoing off the walls and almost makes him flinch. It's morning, from what he can see through the drawn curtains; the slightest bit of light is peeking through the fabric and illuminating a nearby table in it's glow.

Blindly, he reaches to the oak coffee table to his left and feels for his phone, soon pulling it up to check the time. The bright light makes him squint until it's finally turned down to a more manageable level. 5:23 Am it's clock reads, and Jack can't help but give out a groan, letting the phone fall from his grasp into the blanket below. His alarm for work won't be going off for twenty minutes, which means he's gone and missed out on a bit more precious time to sleep. It's almost impossible to return to sleep after he's been woken up, and so, the former soldier sits there for another couple of minutes, chin resting atop his covered knees. Only when the alarm goes off does the man finally slide off the couch and get to work with folding the blanket as neatly as he can, shoving it to one side of the sofa with the pillow on top.

The first place he heads is the bathroom, picking through his bag of clothes on the way for his tooth brush and such. Locking the door, a pile of clothing on the closed lid of the toilet, he glances briefly in the mirror.

He's frozen.

Red, _angry_ scratches run down the pale skin of his neck. He cranes his head upwards slightly, fingertips carefully probing at the flesh before quickly yanking themselves back. It still hurts like hell. The male ceases the investigation for just a moment to get dressed, pulling up the collar of his uniform when he folds it, hoping to help conceal at least some of the damage. It's obvious who the culprit was, or was it? Could he really just call blame on the ghostly figure from before? It was crazy to think anyone else in the house was capable of.. _this_.

Jack lets out a sigh, breath hitching just the slightest. He's scared; that thing followed him nearly two blocks away. And for what? To scratch up his neck to the point of nearly bleeding. A huff of mild annoyance leaves his chapped lips as he somewhat too aggressively fixes the tie around his neck, making sure to smooth out any wrinkles the action may have caused. Afterwards, his eyes meet the mirror once more and he takes a good hard look at the image within it before glancing away, letting out another sigh. His mind is drawing blanks on the subject, and just thinking about the whole ghost fiasco is giving him a migraine. The former blond pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension; a knock at the door nearly makes him jump.

"You in there, Jack?" The German's voice calls, somewhat groggy sounding, as if still fighting off traces of sleep.

He quickly scoops up his clothing and tooth brush, unlocking the door a moment later before attempting to not accidently bump into the other male. Rein merely gives a sort of half nod when they pass by each other, the sound of running water shortly accompanying the click of the bathroom doors lock.

Since he's left with no choice, Jack brushes his teeth in the kitchen sink, and has to avoid a strange look from Ana when the woman steps into the room for her morning coffee.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Not feeling like asking for a ride, Jack walks to work, instantly regretting it due to the early morning chill in the air. He endures though, simply upping his pace as the cold wind chases behind him. When he actually does reach the station, it's already alight with movement and he's exhausted.

For the next few hours, the only thing on his mind, is that ghostly face haunting him. His fingers occasionally trace along the now dulled and jagged lines covering his neck, thanking the fact that they weren't deep enough to scar; he has enough of those damn things, a mosaic of different shapes and lengths of pale flesh stretching across his skin. But _these_ are different from any other and its obvious why.

Maybe he's finally starting to believe in ghosts, the facts are all there and he's had a first hand experience of who or whatever is haunting the house. Still, he's getting old and his eye sight or mind aren't what they used to be.

His fingers tap idly against the wooden desk below them, softly scratching at the unfinished paperwork below. _Maybe_ , it's time to actually figure out what the hell is going on. He's already mentally drawn up a plan of action, more or less deciding to some what wing things in case they go wrong, because what else could someone do in a situation like this? Probably a lot of things but he'd rather get to the bottom of it all now, before it spirals out of control and he needs to start tearing out hair. With his mind now somewhat clearer and the huge weight lifted from his already bad shoulders, he's able to finally set to work, cracking open the already massive stack of paperwork eyeing him from the corner of his desk.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thankfully, Rein drives him home. Although, he's forced to sit in the back since Fareeha has already claimed the passenger's side, still dressed up in her soccer uniform with a heavy layer of mud and what seems to be stains from grass coating her face and outfit. She seems unbothered by it, but Jack knows Ana is going to be upset about the mess in the front seat.

"How'd it go?" Jack asks, curious about the mass amounts of filth. The girl seems to pause for a moment, giving the smallest of 'hmm's' in response to his inquiry before actually answering. "Well….It went fine until the rain came in, kept sliding all over the place but it was fun. Angela was nice enough to share her umbrella with me while I waited for dad…" She seemed to trail off at the last part, obviously embarrassed by the tone of her voice. Jack catches the slight glimpse of Rein's smirk, the glint in his eyes when he glances at his daughter before softly nudging her with a broad shoulder. "Eh? Is that a blush I see, my little bird?" He teases and the male can't help but chuckle at the long, drawn out groan coming from the passenger's seat.

" _Dad_ " She warns, the leather creaking gently as her arms fold across her chest.

Jack rolls his eyes at their conversation, but smiles. He's always wanted a little girl of his own, maybe one like Fareeha. It would have to wait though, given the fact that it's hard enough trying to take care of himself, let alone a child. He'd rather not be a single parent, let alone a single parent raising a child in his haunted house. 

"You know he's just messing with you, Fareeha." The former soldier murmurs jokingly and earns a grumble in reply. "I _know_ , Uncle Jack. But, he asks about this all the time, it's embarrassing. We're just friends!" She insists, and its all so obvious that she's got a little crush. "Alright, alright. I hear you loud and clear, kiddo." The girl seems satisfied with the answer, and so, she continues rambling on about the different happenings throughout the day. They approach Jack's driveway, just as she's finishing up a story about how the coach nearly got beamed in the face by a cleat during practice. He feels somewhat bad for laughing, but nonetheless, climbs out of the backseat and waves as the car takes off down the street. The second they're out of view, he turns, facing the house before him. It’s honestly rather pathetic, no one's home should be this intimidating, and _yet_..

It's another couple of minutes, before Jack actually manages to gather up the courage to even walk up to the damn place's door. Opening it up takes even more time, but eventually, the door's old hinges creak as it opens. He goes for the light the second he steps in, not wanting a repeat of last night. Though, in the time that it takes the male to walk inside and turn on the lights, the door slams behind him and instantly, as sense of dread clings to his form.

Jack swallows. _Hard._

"I..I know what you're trying to do. You're _messing_ with me." He says, trying to sound calm and collected but the shake in his voice gives away his fear. "You left marks last night, why? What did I ever do to you?" There's no answer, just that same chill. He feels eyes on him from all sides but can't seem to find their owner. This all honestly feels like one big mistake, and it’s far too late to back away now.

 _Though, he's not even sure if that was an option in the first place_.

It's quiet, his words hanging in the air without a single reply. Then, there's that touch; rather than go for his wrists like last time, to drifts upwards. Gelid fingertips trace the scarred skin in a manner that almost seems far too gentle to be the same ghost, and he's almost certain it's not, until…The same ghostly figure from before appears.

This time, Jack gets a _real_ good look at them.

Their skin is tannish with patches of what seems to be pale flesh; there are scars running across the skin, including a rather large one along his left cheek. The eyes, so cold and almost lifeless, are a lovely dark brown. Jack notices flakes of lighter hues within them when he steps closer. Honestly, the man before him, is positively _beautiful_ in every sense of the word…and honestly, looks so painfully familiar that it makes his heart _ache_ just to look at him.

Just when he's about to speak, the spirit cuts him off, voice deep and gravelly. Each word seems to rumble when it leaves those scarred lips.

"You ran away last night…Jack. Did I _frighten_ you that badly? I didn't mean to." The voice takes on a sarcastic tone at the end, and the soft touch almost turns to claws biting into the flesh of Jack's cheek. He quickly flinches away, a hand pressed against the reddened skin with a look of shock.

"There I go again." Was it smirking? The former soldier seemed to let out a muffled growl at the expression, eyes filled with annoyance. "How do you know my name and what do you want?" Jack barks out, taking a few steps back when the figure moves forward. His back presses against the cold wood of the door and suddenly, he's pinned there between it and the ghost. A bitter curse leaves his lips.

"After all those years and you… _forgot_ about me? I'm rather hurt." Not a thing changes in the phantom's expression, he just keeps on smiling and it honestly pisses Jack off. "Now the… What do I want? Are you trying to get rid of me already? I thought you'd be happy to see me. So, try to search around in that _thick_ skull of yours and remember." The smile fades and is replaced with a look of pure anger, brows furrowed and teeth barred. A hand comes up to rest it’s palm upon Jack's throat, like a threat. The older man narrows his eyes, peering into the other's, as if just their dull depths alone would provide him the answers. There's that ache again, the one that pulls at his chest in such a way that it feels as though he's being ripped apart from the inside out. Then it hits him like a brick, and just the surprised expression on his face seems to stir some kind of sick joy within the specter because he's smiling again. Nice and wide to reveal every one of those _jagged,_ sharp teeth. " _Who am I?_ Did you finally figure it out, old man?"

" _Gabriel._ " Jack breathes and he swears he might just choke right then and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus this took forever for me to release. Sorry, internet kept shitting out and I got distracted with Witcher 3 but hey! The next chapter is finally out! 
> 
> As always, Contact me on tumblr-https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gay-and-mildly-upset


	4. Bad Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel brings up the past and Jack tries hard to make things right.

"You're supposed to be-" The ghost immediately tightens his grip on the other's throat, nails digging into the skin like tiny daggers. "Think about what you're about to say, Jack." He hisses out, voiced with subtle amusement. Jack growls gently at the pain, but it's what the other says that makes him shut up and internally smack himself.

 _Right_.

You're supposed to be dead? That was kind of a dumb thing to say to the _s_ _pecter_ currently pressing him against the wall. He chooses his next words carefully, as if one wrong thing would get him killed and honestly, it probably would.

"Why..Did you come back?" He watches Gabriel's face tighten, then change as a gravely and haunting chuckle spreads from his scarred lips. "To see my old partner _of course_ " He speaks as though the answer was always this obvious but Jack doesn't believe one bit of it.

It's not like they ended on bad terms, it was just..It was an accident. He didn't mean to.

The former soldier's face softens somewhat with grief, his dull cobalt eyes filled with remorse. His mouth feels dry when he goes to speak. "Gabe..Fuck I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" The grip is borderline agonizing at this point and he feels something warm dribble down his neck before it finally loosens and the hand is removed. Jack struggles to breath, his own hands rushing up to the wounds on his neck. They come back smeared with bright crimson. It's not much, and it probably just feels worse than it really is. He finally glances up at the ghost of his friend, watching in horror as the apparition swipes his tongue out to lap at the blood staining his finger tips. Their eyes meet for a moment, like a predator staring down his prey and Jack almost flinches when the other moves, still bloodied fingers cupping his chin. "You're..Sorry? Do you honestly think that you apologizing is going to change the fact that you left me for dead? You let me bleed out and didn't do a thing about it!" Gabriel raises his voice to a near scream, the volume making the older male flinch and nearly shrink in on himself. It's positively _terrifying_ to see the person he'd cared so dearly about turned into.. _this_. This wraith that hungers for only revenge.

His heart _aches_ to see the old Gabe, to laugh and joke like they were young and stupid again. When Gabriel was still alive and the guilt didn't hang heavy over his own head like a guillotine.

"Please. I- Let me at least explain-" The male's face changed slightly, taking on a somewhat inquisitive look which made Jack shakily continue on. "When the smoke fell. I swear, I looked for you but there was the order to fall back and I just. I got grabbed and pulled along. They wouldn't let me stay, no matter how much I kicked and screamed. They didn't want to lose anymore men." He's pleading to be forgiven, for the other to see that he actually tried to save him. That Jack never wanted to leave his lover behind.

It's quiet now, the two simply locked in a seemingly unbreakable stare down. Aqua eyes peer into dark, hatred filled ones with a look of longing and fear.

"Please..Gabe." The man murmurs and his voice nearly cracks, a hand raising to carefully cup where the ghost's cheek would be, feeling nothing but a harsh chill against his palm. He misses the warmth, he misses the way that Gabriel would lean into the touch and press the softest kiss to his wrist. The dead man does none of this, he only stares coldly, his body stiff. Tears well in his eyes and instantly, he tries to wipe them away but a hand stops him. It's a soft grip this time, one that has no harming intention. Part of him wants to pull away and hide his face. He doesn't want to be seen like this. It feels like he's vulnerable and Jack absolutely despises the feeling, even if it's only a familiar face looking over him as he breaks down.

"I _tried_. I tried so fucking hard to find you and it wasn't enough." Jack manages to gasp out. "Don't you think I beat myself up about it _E_ _very_. _S_ _ingle._ _D_ _ay_  after that? That I cried myself to sleep? That I drank until I couldn't remember my own name?" He wants to be held, to be consoled but at the same time, Jack wants to yell and scream at Gabriel for thinking he never cared. "I- I.." A hand clamps over his mouth and Jack silences himself instantly but the tears keep flowing. Gabe's voice makes the former soldier flinch, looking up at him with his eyes full of anger and sorrow. " _Idiota_." The ghost hisses out before his form suddenly fades, but Jack manages to catch a glimpse of the other's expression. It's soft, sweet, something akin to the Gabe he'd known long ago.

His back slides down the door roughly, legs tired and body heavy. He's upset, head in his hands as he finally tries to wipe away the tears running down his cheeks like a river. The sting around his neck has now dulled enough that Jack doesn't even bother worrying about it as the blood slowly rolls down and stains the collar of his shirt. He wasn't a fan of this one anyways and it doesn't matter when his mind is bursting at the seams with the thoughts filling it. Everything is confusing and everything just _hurts_. It's the first time he's seen Gabriel in years and it all just went to absolute shit. But one thing is certain.

He needs a fucking drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. Sorry. Kind of rushed this one as I made an attempt to figure out what the hell to put?? Anyways, prepare for an SEP/War flashback in the next and potentially last chapter. 
> 
> As always, contact me on Tumblr @gay-and-mildly-upset


	5. All The Little Things

Sleepless nights pass by in a blur. Hours and hours are spent laying in bed, hands splayed out across his pale, scarred stomach; cobalt eyes stare up at the ceiling. He counts cracks in the paint, loses track and begrudgingly starts over, hoping that after the tenth time he'll finally manage to get a few minutes of sleep.

After the third night, he finally gives up on that tiny bit of hope he'd been holding onto and passes out into a fitful sleep with the aid of alcohol.

The next few days go on like this, like some kind of booze influenced ritual. Jack hates it but it helps him sleep at night and keep the thoughts of 'Him' at bay. If only the booze could keep away the actual spirit. It's late when he finally fells that familiar chill, the sensation sending a strong shiver right up his spine. Eyes dart to find the source with a hidden glimmer of hope and land upon the ghostly form of his former lover standing atop the bottom step of the stairs. A strange kind of aura radiates from the being, so different and alien from their 'first' meeting when Jack moved in.

It's warm, it's soft.

It's the Gabriel he _remembers_.

Gabe doesn't say a word but instead, beckons Jack with a powerful gaze and begins to slowly walk up the stairs, feet floating just a few inches above the steps themselves. Quickly, Jack sits up from where he'd been laying atop the couch, stumbling once, twice over the coffee table and a pesky pair of shoes before cautiously heading for the stairs. Peeking around the corner, he finds the Ex soldier waiting at the top step, staring intently.

Jack wants to speak, to ask where the ghost has been, but his mouth remains shut and he follows in complete and utter silence. They arrive at Jack's bedroom, which is honestly a complete mess. Gabriel glances at the other with a scolding look from the edge of the bed and Jack can't help but shrink in on himself before quickly shaking off the feeling. The apparition seems to give nothing more than a huff, before laying back and patting the spot beside him.

There's an expectant look plastered upon his face, like he's waiting for Jack to make his move. When the older male finally picks up on this, he doesn't hesitate to carefully crawl into the bed, barely making an effort to undress to his boxers before he's laying down on his back a few inches from Gabe. He feels nervous but oddly reassured just by the closeness of their bodies; he longs to reach over and hold the other close. Gabriel beats him to it and pulls Jack to curl against his side, or rather, does his best to guide his lover into doing so; it's an awkward effort, considering that his contact is limited. Jack doesn't seem to mind though, he's just so tired and the cool touch rubbing circles on his back feels nice. It's been years since he's simply laid in bed with Gabe, and he's missed it.  
  
Jack nearly chokes. He's wanted this for so long and even if the circumstances are different, he can't help but give a grateful sob against the other's frigid form. Warm tears roll down his cheeks like a river, and his body shivers and shakes pitifully at the ghost's comforting hold. The figure does nothing more than hold him in silence, allowing him to let years and years of pent up emotions flow out of him. 

Now, he appreciates all the little things; the soft touch, Gabriel's whispering voice mumbling incoherent things in his ear. Jack imagines the other's heart beat in his head, the steady intake of slow breaths reverberating around the silence of the room. He feels his eyes close and the exhaustion finally cave in. Gabriel can't help but crack the slightest of smiles as his form slowly fades, but not before pressing an icy kiss to the sleeping soldier's chapped lips, lingering against the warmth for a moment more. Then, in an instant, he's gone with a whisper.

" _I forgive you_."  
  
Jack can't help but feel colder than before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooow this took way to long for me to get done. Sorry :I. I honestly didn't think it was going to take this long to get my motivation back but ehhhh. Anyways, it's finally done. BUT, there will most likely be one more little chapter that's set a bit into the future! Featuring a new character. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! And kudos to you for bearing with this long ass wait time. I'm unsure what I'll actually write about next but I certainly do want to create more fanfictions for my different fandoms. If you have any suggestions leave them down in the comments below! 
> 
> As always, contact me on tumblr @gay-and-mildly-upset.


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